Drunken Sorrows
by LLFOREVER
Summary: Before they can begin again, they must end. They both know that, but tonight, they're not thinking about it. Tonight, they'll drink away their sorrows together. One shot.


Drunken Sorrows

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Gilmore Girls or its characters. There are a few lines from "Last Week Fights, This Week Tights."

RATING: R, for strong language, adult situations

A/N: I've worked long (496 minutes) and hard on this, but it wouldn't have happened without Ari's help. I mean that. Love ya lots. Read and review - give me your honest opinions. Thanks!

* * *

The bartender hears the door open as he puts the last bar stool up on the counter. 

"We're closed," he says. His response echoes his life now. His monotonous days are filled with regrets and sorrow. He waits to hear the door open again, but nothing happens.

"We're closed," he says again. He has thought about suicide, but he decided it would be too much trouble. Now, he laughs bitterly when he thinks about it. He has pushed away anyone who ever cared or even pretended to care about him. His death wouldn't mean anything to anyone.

The voice that answers used to be soft and sweet, but time and broken dreams have made it harsh and bitter. The speaker's face used to be innocent and pure, but it has been hardened by false relationships.

"I don't care. I want a drink." This is the voice of a person who was on the rise to stardom. She thought she was sky high in life, but now she has hit rock bottom. She hurt her friends and family on the way down, and now she has no one.

Her voice is strangely real to her. She hasn't heard that soft innocence since her teenage years, and she struggles to remember that person.

He remembers. Instantly, he is taken back to those days when there were people who cared. He threw it all away. He knows he can't change it now, but this is one of those days when he wishes he could.

He whispers her name to himself. He knew she was on her way to her dreams. Then he remembers hearing about her suicide attempt and her steady fall that followed.

"Well, are you going to get me a drink?" He doesn't know this voice. This is the commanding voice of someone that knew power but didn't know what to do with it. He's not being critical; he's not sure if she'll know his voice, but this time - this time, he's going to try to be the person he wanted to be.

"What can I get you?" Screw that. He asks that question over and over each day. He wonders, for a second, if the people they are now are still compatible.

There was a hint of something familiar in his cynical voice, but she can't place it. She knows why. She doesn't like to remember the old days, the days where everything was carefree and good.

"So, how have you been? I heard your husband divorced you over… what was it? Oh, yes. You didn't want to stay in Connecticut. You wanted to move to New York City and live a ritzy life in the spotlight." His words cut into her like the razor blade that she has made herself bleed over and over with.

"Stop it! You don't know me!" Tears begin to roll down her face, but he's not done.

"So here you are in a bar on Christmas Eve in New York City… wanting to drink your sorrows away. I know you. I know you because we've become the same kind of people. Any other night, I'd pass. But just because it's Christmas Eve, and just because it's you, we can drink our sorrows away together. We'll have a fucking good time."

"You know me, do you? Do you know that I hated you? I hated you for not wanting the same things as me. I hated you for being right about my life. I hated you for making me love you. I did love you, even if I didn't say it." She takes a deep breath. Her hand brushes away her long, silky hair. "I loved you. You were a fucking bastard, but I loved you." She laughs a bitter laugh. "Look at us now. Give me a beer."

He does, and he takes out one for himself. They drink the first one down slowly, but that's only the beginning. He's always been able to handle his alcohol well, but tonight, he's getting piss-drunk. He's not even thinking about it as he chugs down drink after drink.

She hates the taste of beer. She's had countless people tell her that she just has to acquire a taste for it, but she still hates it. Every drink she takes, she thinks about the past, and she knows he does too.

Finally, they decide they've had enough. He is sitting beside her now, and he laughs at something she says, but he doesn't know what. In a slurred voice, he suggests they go to his apartment. Luckily, that only means walking the short distance to the small rooms in the back, near the delivery area.

Together, they stumble along, laughing as they go. They fall onto the bed, and then he kisses her.

The kiss is rough and bittersweet. He wants her, wants to have what he should have had. She wants him, wants the one she always wanted. Tonight is about recapturing the past and forgetting the future.

* * *

He's never been one for whispering sweet nothings, and tonight is no different. Instead, he says everything he wants to say. 

_"I love you. I'm sorry for the things I did that hurt you. I'm sorry I couldn't change who I became. I'm sorry I can't change the person you are now."_

She doesn't even know how much they'll remember from tonight, but she wants to savor it while she can. She says the things that have been weighing on her for years, and it feels good to get it off her chest.

_"I love you. You were right about it all, and I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry for all the things that I didn't do with you. I'm sorry I couldn't stop you from becoming this person. I'm sorry I can't change who you are now._"

There is a feeling of release between them after they've said their parts. Tonight is like an act; there are certain things that they must do and say. They both know they'll forget this night, and their lives will go on as the people that others avoid on the streets, but right now, they're content for the first time in years.

His breath is hot, but she doesn't mind. She loves the feel of his arms around her. One of his hands traces over the scars on her thighs. He cringes as he does. She's not the girl he once knew, but then again, he's not that boy. He never was.

She shivers as he runs his hand over her scars. She cuts herself as a form of release. It's easier to handle the physical pain, and it gives her the only feeling of control in her life. She knows she can't handle the mental pain; that's why she tried to commit suicide. She hates that he's not the person she knew he could be, but she's not the person she was supposed to be either.

For awhile, they're silent. He watches her as she looks out the window at the falling snow. She glances at the clock and realizes that it's Christmas now. She feels a twinge of pain in her chest thinking of them. Tears begin to fill her eyes. When did she lose it? What was the turning point, the point where everything went down hill? She trembles and chokes out an audible sob as she turns to face him.

"I don't want to be this person. I never wanted to be this person," she cries. Inside, he cries for her. He doesn't know what to say, and he's not sure there is anything to say. This is where her life is now, and that's where his is too.

"Nobody wanted you to be." She wasn't supposed to be this person; they both know that. Somewhere along the way, something happened. She doesn't remember exactly what it was, and maybe it was a progression of things. She'd like to think that it was all out of her control, but deep inside, she knows it wasn't.

"I thought I wanted to be somebody. I thought I was somebody." She sees her life now as things that she thought. As she looks back, she can't help but think that everything she ever thought was fucking wrong. She thought she loved him; she knows she did. She thought she knew the person she wanted to be; she didn't.

_You were,_ he wants to say. _You were somebody, but you wouldn't let yourself be the person you really are._ He knows that. He wouldn't let his guard down, wouldn't let anyone help him, wouldn't let himself amount to anything, and now he hates himself every day for it.

"You are. You're somebody to me." As the words roll off his tongue, he thinks about how stupid that sounded, but this time… for the first time in years, he means what he's saying.

"Then that just makes us two nobodies," she snarls. She paints a true picture of herself with her voice. Both are bitter and empty.

"You don't really think that, do you?" His voice falters as he asks her that; she's right.

"No, I know that. Do you know how long it's been since I talked to my mom?" He gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Three years. It's been three years and not one word between us. I don't even know if her last name is still the same," she whispers. "I drove her away, just like I did everyone else. Even you."

"You didn't drive me away. I walked away." She shakes her head stubbornly. Tears begin to fill her eyes again. "You didn't do it alone. I should have listened to you. God, I should have listened to you," she says. "You were right."

"I was right? Look at me. Look at me! I'm 25 years old, and I have nothing to live for. I threw my entire life away."

"And I watched you do it. I could have done something!" Could she have done something? It's another one of her eternal questions that she asks herself when she thinks about her life. She wants to know what it was that made him leave and why she wasn't enough to make him stay.

"You couldn't have done anything, just like I couldn't have changed the way your life turned out. It just makes us feel better if we talk about it like we have a do over."

"I want a do over. Every fucking day of my life, I want a do over! Every time I think about you, I want a do over! But I had that chance, and I blew it, just like I blew the rest of my life." He stares at her. Her eyes are hurt. There is no flicker to them. Their now-dull color is the only reminder of the person she used to be.

"What… what if you had tomorrow to do over?" She looks up and meets his eyes.

"I would get out of bed and feel good about myself. I would call my mom and everyone else I hurt. I would remember what it was like to love you," she whispers. "And I'd do it again."

She means it this time, and he knows it.

* * *

"Stay with me," he says. 

"What?" Her heart skips a beat as she remembers a night, years ago, with a similar plea. Maybe it was then. Maybe that's when it all went downhill.

"Stay with me." She stares at him. _Come with me._ _What? Come with me._

"I… I can't do that." _You don't think you can do it, but you can. You can do whatever you want._

"What's holding you back? There's no one but yourself to hold you back, so what is it?" A beat of silence falls between them. He's not even sure if she knows what's holding her back, but he wants to know.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"If I had, I wouldn't have been able to go. I know who you were then. You would have hated yourself if you were the only reason I stayed. Look, you know we're supposed to be together." _I knew it the first time I saw you two years ago, and you know it too. I know you do._

Did she know? She thinks she did, but those memories have been blocked out for years.

"Please, stay with me. This is your chance. This is our chance for a do over." _No, no, no, no, no._

"I'll stay."

* * *

They have a silent agreement. They're going to Stars Hollow today. This is their do over. He's making restitution, and she's seeking forgiveness. Today, they're going back in time to capture what should have been. 

The streets of Stars Hollow are quiet. The town seems like a foreign land to her, but if she closes her eyes, she can remember how it used to look and feel. It still feels like a home, but it's not her home anymore. It hasn't been for a long time. Truthfully, she doesn't think it was ever his home. He was never completely comfortable here, and he's right. She would have hated herself for being the one reason he'd stayed.

He smiles when they drive past a line of snow people. He glances over at her, and she's smiling too. He thinks this is the happiest he's ever been. He's not afraid of where he's going now. Not to her mother's house, but in life. He's had hopes and dreams before, but this is the first time he's believed they could come true, the first time he's ever put his faith in someone else.

They reach the end of the line, and he stops. Her face freezes as they read the sign beside the Wonka-themed snow person. _This year's winner of Stars Hollow's annual Snow Building Contest is the joint entry of Lorelai and Jack Danes_

"They got married," he says. He smirks for a second and then looks over at her. Her face is white, and he can't tell how she feels about it.

"They had a kid," she whispers. He doesn't ask if she still wants to go to her mother's house. They have to go; that's what this opportunity is about. The rest of the way, they remain silent.

The sight of the house brings tears to her eyes. The fresh snow glistens under the gentle sunlight, and she can see the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights from outside. It's a winter wonderland, but it's not hers.

"I don't know if I can do this alone," she says.

"That's why I'm here." He gets out of the car slowly and walks around to her side. Together, they walk up to the door. Before they can knock, a little boy's face appears on the other side. He stares at them for a second, and his blue eyes and curly, dark brown hair mesmerize her.

"Jack! Who's at the door?" He squeezes her shoulder gently as Lorelai yells again.

"Jack, is it Grandpa?" Jack turns and runs toward the living room. He returns carrying a furry puppy with a red ribbon around its neck.

"This better be good, Jack," Lorelai says. She pads toward the door in her new, furry slippers, but she comes to an abrupt stop when she looks up and sees who it is.

"What are you doing here?" He can feel her tense beneath his fingers. She doesn't answer.

"Who is it?" Lorelai looks down at Jack and back up at them.

"Sweetie, this… this is… my daughter." Jack's eyes widen. Suddenly, Luke bursts into the foyer and stares at them before pushing the door open. He steps out and grabs her in a tight hug. He holds her for a few seconds and then turns and shakes his hand.

He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out an envelope.

"You don't have to do this," Luke says.

"I do," he replies. "I'm not doing this for you. I have to do it for me. I have to do it for us." Luke stares at him, but he accepts the money.

"Do you want to come in?" He looks at her. She shifts uncomfortably.

"I'm not ready yet. I'm sorry. I didn't come here to turn around and leave, but I'm not ready to come in."

"I'm not ready for you to come in," Lorelai says. She looks up, startled, but somehow, it's part of a new bridge of connection.

"I guess we'll go then," she whispers. "Merry Christmas." She turns and walks toward the car. He follows her, but Lorelai's voice calls them back.

"Wait! I have something!" She runs up the stairs and returns with a small bundle. She opens the door and walks outside slowly. "I wrote a letter to you on your birthday and Christmas, every year since your sophomore year in college. I want you to have them." Lorelai hands her the small bundle, and she takes it carefully.

"Thank you." She steps forward, and they embrace in an awkward hug. "I'll call this time."

* * *

_Christmas Day_

_Jack has just turned four. He can be a handful at times, but he's such a sweet little boy. I broke down Luke; we got Jack a puppy for Christmas. Luke is the same is always. He seems happy, so I must be doing something right. Dirty! Tonight, I'm going to tell him that I'm pregnant again._

_One of these days, I'm going to get around to sending these. I can't do it yet. I don't know how you are anymore. I don't know if you still have any of your money or if you're getting by as a hooker. I should have called after you tried to commit suicide, but there's a lot that you should have done too._

_I don't know if I'll ever see you or talk to you again. I don't know if I want to. You hurt me. You hurt a lot of people, but you know that. If you do come back… I know that I won't be able to help but forgive you. You're still my daughter, but that's all I know. I don't know who you are._

_I guess I'll keep writing these letters until I hear from you or find out that you're dead or something. That sounds pretty morose, but that's the simple truth. I have a family. I can't run out into the world looking for you to pull you up. If that can be done, I'm not the person for it. I'll be here as a friend, mother, whatever, but I can't change who you've become._

_If you're reading this, you probably think it sounds nothing like me, but how much do you know about me anymore? I don't want you to disappear again. No matter what, you're still my daughter._

_To catch you up on the town gossip, Lulu is expecting another baby. Yes, this will make #6. Or, based on their history, it could make #6 and #7 or #6, #7, and #8. Patty is getting married in February, a Valentine's Day wedding. This one might actually be a keeper. I think Michel has a girlfriend. He's been… happy and friendly lately, so he must be getting some. Enough about all of that though._

_Merry Christmas. Lorelai, Luke, and Jack_

She stares at the letter in her hands and smiles. They've accomplished or started to accomplish what they went to Stars Hollow to do. She glances over at him as he pulls up outside of the bar.

"Are you coming in?"

"I said I'd do it again." They both know that she's not referring to coming in. They stare at each other for a few seconds, and neither says anything else.

They get it now, why they took the journey they did and why they're here. They're here because of broken dreams and shattered hopes. They're here because of drunken sorrows.

* * *

A/N: Well.. that wraps this one up. Review and let me know your thoughts on a prequel or sequel or something. Thanks!  



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